


Tales from the Multiverse: Five Down

by JimberlyHopper



Series: Tales from the Multiverse [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Kidnapping, Breaking and Entering, Good Parent Wentworth Tozier, Kidnapping, brick induced trauma, bricks, key stabs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimberlyHopper/pseuds/JimberlyHopper
Summary: The Losers are going missing. The most recent one to go? One Edward Kaspbrak. Now, Richie and Beverly have fallen into a routine of pretending nothing happened during the day before getting intoxicated and introspective at night. Meanwhile, when they can't hang out, Richie has formed a bond with former bully Patrick Hockstetter, who is similarly torn up about his friends Henry, Victor and Belch. When Bev breaks down in the clubhouse, things could just get even worse.
Series: Tales from the Multiverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712599
Kudos: 1





	1. Two to Go

Eddie was missing. He was the latest of the Losers to disappear. First was Mike, followed by Ben, Bill, Stan and then Eds. News coverage was worryingly little, despite the children of Derry having stopped their disappearances after the Losers had taken out Pennywise in the summer of 2018, a year ago. Bev and Richie were the only kids left, and there was nothing they could do about the disappearances. Not this time. So they tried to carry on with life, Bev and Richie meeting up every day to get their minds off of it. Since Eddie’s disappearance, it had been two weeks, the longest time between disappearances other than the month between Mike and Ben. Richie felt that it was between disappearances because of the fact that he was sure the Losers were being picked off. Soon enough, he’d either be with Eddie, kidnapped in some creepy dude’s basement, or dead. Either one would be preferable to life at the moment. He and Bev were good friends, sure, he loved her. But not in the way he loved Eddie, though he’d never say it to his face. He _really_ loved Eddie. Like, in a gay way. He would never tell anyone though. It wasn’t the 80s, the world was super accepting now. But the small town in Maine certainly wasn’t. Maybe when he made it in showbiz he could talk about the love of his life that disappeared and was never seen again, that might make a fun joke.

Point is, most of the Losers were missing and it had been a while since the last one disappeared. School had been out for almost a month now, summer felt a lot less fun without most of the others. As Richie walked to the clubhouse, he spotted one Patrick Hockstetter across the street. Since the disappearances began, he’d formed a sort of bond with the former bully, who was torn up about Bowers, Vic and Belch. He stuck a hand up in greeting, with a sad smile, which Richie mimicked. Pat walked over the road to conversate with the younger boy. “Heya Rich.” He said, waving again, somewhat nervously.

“Hi Pat.” Richie said, sad smile remaining on his face.

“I’ve been meaning to ask for a while, but…” He paused for a moment. “God this sounds stupid, but do you know what happened to Bowers, Belch and Vic? Like, I know Bowers was unstable but he wouldn’t try and take us out. What… what happened?”

Richie froze, not knowing whether or not to tell the truth. He huffed out a sigh. “Yes.” He said after another moment of silence. “I know what happened. But if I were to tell you, you’d lock me up in an insane asylum. So, I’m really sorry Pat, but I can’t tell you. Maybe one day, once all this crazy shit with the Losers is sorted. Maybe we’ll be able to tell you, as a group of seven.”

Patrick’s face contorted into a mixture of surprise and disappointment with a large side of sadness. “Oh… okay. Okay that makes sense. Just… make sure you tell me eventually.”

“You got it Pat.” Richie winked and the two walked off in separate directions.

By the time he was at the clubhouse, the sun had started to set. Perfect time to get wasted and/or high and/or introspective with Bev. That was the nightly routine, get intoxicated, be sad with Bev, forget in the morning. The trapdoor was already open, signifying that Bev was in the hole already, unsurprisingly. She was often down there grinding up weed for the bong because Richie was inept when it came to anything that didn’t involve his mouth. When it _did_ involve his mouth though- Well, just ask Sonia Kaspbrak. He clambered down the ladder, expecting to smell weed or alcohol, but was met with the smell of pure tobacco cigs. He wheezed as the second hand smoke filled his lungs. “Hoo, Bev, haven’t smelt you on these in a while.” He half-heartedly joked, letting her know that he was here. She sniffed in response, still facing away as she sat on the hammock. “Bev?” He asked when she didn’t say more.

“Hi Rich.” She said quietly, voice strained. Next to her Richie noticed a small pile of cigarettes piling up on the floor.

“You okay Bevvy?”

“What do you think Rich?” She turned to him, eyes puffy from crying, though face dry as she had run out of tears. “We’re fucked. All of our friends are missing or dead, Richie. And we’re next, we’ve gotta be. We’re fucked.” Her voice cracked and she turned away, burying her face into her hand as she sobbed, body shaking with each breath out. Richie sped to her side and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight as she cried in his arms. “I just… I miss all of them. And I really miss Ben.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” Richie said on a whim to comfort her, glossing over the way his body froze out of fear for a moment when he said it.

“No you don’t.” She sobbed. “You’re not like us. You aren’t in love with someone who’s missing.”

“Bev. I really do. Trust me.” He insisted, tightening his grip. His heart was pumping, he felt selfish for doing this now, but if there was a better time to do it then it wouldn’t be for a while. Probably. She looked up at him, tears having returned to her eyes. He mouthed one word. “Eddie.” He huffed a laugh.

“Of course.” She whispered, sniffling again. Richie sighed.

“Bev, I can’t tell you if we’re safe. I can’t tell you if we’ll see them again. And I’m sorry. But I can tell you that you need to stop smoking cigarettes, and I can tell you that I can go home and get some beers, and I can tell you that we can make the best of the time we have together, whether it’s the next sixty years or sixty seconds. What do you say?”

She stayed silent other than sniffles for a while, before nodding with an “okay.” Richie let go and, with a smile, climbed back up.

“I’ll be back soon, Bevvy.” He called down, turning back towards his house.

Within thirty seconds there was a muffled scream. Richie turned back and sprinted to the hole in the ground, only to find a tall man, in all black with a ski mask, covering Bevs mouth with his gloved hand. Upon hearing Richie land in the clubhouse, the man turned and, with a “fuck,” made a grab for Richie too. He jumped back, the fingers barely brushing the fabric of his shirt. He grabbed the hand and, with his limited strength, yanked it towards him. Bev was freed as the man lessened his grip in surprise, allowing Richie to punch his covered face, stunning him for a moment. He reached for Bev, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the ladder. She followed and, in record time, they were up and out, sprinting away from the clubhouse. They didn’t get far before they heard a shout as the man exited the hole. He was even taller than Richie, so he’d definitely be faster. He turned back, with a “keep going!” as Bev turned to him, concerned. She hesitated, but ran again when Richie nodded at her, an assurance that he’d be okay. He had to protect Bev from this asshole. Maybe in the process, he’d see the rest of the Losers again. No matter how it happened. He'd be okay.


	2. The Battle of Bowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie escapes the grasp of his arch enemy, the kidnapping man, and gets patched up by his father. The trio go to investigate the house of the kidnapper when they're stopped by the chief of police.

Richie was not okay. The dude had a _FUCKING GUN_. Bev was gone by the time he pulled it out and aimed it at the boy’s face, shouting to “Get the fuck down!” Richie raised his hands but did not follow, instead choosing to shout back.

“Who are you?”

“Shut the fuck up and get on the ground!”

“Where are the Losers? _Where’s Eddie_?”

“I will _fucking_ shoot!”

“Do it bitch!” Richie shouted, closing the distance between the two and grabbing the mans hand in an attempt to wrestle the gun out. With his left fist, Richie struck the guy in the face, while he lost the fight with his right hand. The strike was quickly deemed a mistake in Richie’s eyes, as it inadvertently made him pull the trigger, sending a bullet straight through both of Richie’s cheeks. As the holes in his face burned, Richie ripped the gun from the man’s hand and decked him as hard as he could, knocking him back. He tackled the guy and pushed him back to the hole of the Clubhouse, sending him in head first and backwards to knock him out. With adrenaline numbing the pain in his face, Richie jumped down and pulled the mask from his face. Beneath it was one Butch Bowers, father of a psychotic teen sent insane by an interstellar clown. After a moment to process the information, Richie slid the mask back down his face and quickly clambered from the hole in the ground. There, he saw Bev running back, obviously having heard the gunshot.

“What the _fuck_ was that?!”

“What do you think it was? We need to get the fuck out of here now! Out of Derry! Call your aunt, I’ll call my dad. He’s knocked out, so we’ve got a tiny bit of time.” He opened his phone and called his dad, smashing his phone against the side of his face, regretting it immediately as pain flared through his cheek. He soldiered on though. “Dad.” He said as soon as his father picked up.

“Who else would it be?” Went joked.

“I need you to pick me and Bev up from the Clubhouse.”

“Where’s the Clubhouse?”

“In the woods next to the turn just before Old Lyme, we’ll meet you at the road. Please be quick.”

“Is something happening?” Went asked, tone suddenly much more serious.

“Yeah. I’ll explain in the car.”

“On my way.” He said, hanging up right afterwards and within minutes the kids had stumbled into the road just as Went turned up. His eyes visibly widened from the blood flowing from Richie’s mouth and made a move to jump out of the car to help. Richie held up a hand and hopped into the passenger seat while Bev piled into the back. Went took off with no hesitation and immediately began asking questions. “What happened? Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“I’ll explain once the holes in my mouth are at the very least covered, dad, can we please just get home. It’s not safe to go to hospital.”

“Why not?” Went turned his head. Richie raised his eyebrows and lowered his head. Went huffed out a laugh. “Even with holes in your face you still manage to make me laugh. But you better tell me everything once they’re patched, you understand?” He looked at Richie expectantly, who gave him a thumbs up. “What about you Bev, you okay?” He looked in the mirror to the shaken redhead behind. Quite literally shaken, as she visibly shivered every couple seconds. “You cold back there?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. She looked up and the two made eye contact through the mirror.

“No, just worried.” She said quietly. Went fell silent at that and sped back home.

Thanks to Went’s many years as a medical professional, they had Richie’s mouth patched up in no time, which meant it was time for answers.

“What happened?” Went asked simply. Richie took a deep breath in and out.

“You know how everyone I know is disappearing?” Went nodded. “Well the guy behind it came for Bev without realising I was there, so we got into a fight and the guy pulled out a gun and shot me, so I pushed him into the clubhouse and knocked him out.”

“Did you see his face?” Went asked. Richie nodded. “Who?”

“Bowers.” Richie said simply, causing the eyes of both Went and Bev to almost pop out of their sockets.

“What, Henry?” Bev asked.

“No. Butch. Chief of police, Butch Bowers. He’s kidnapping the Losers.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to go to hospital?”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t believe if we say that the honourable chief of police is kidnapping kids and shot me in the face.”

“That’s true.” Went agreed.

“We need to go to someone higher up in the government, they’ve gotta be against this!” Bev said.

“Not necessarily. At risk of sounding like a conspiracy theorist, Henry Bowers might have been insane, but his father isn’t and he wouldn’t just kidnap a bunch of kids, especially after what happened last year with all that clown stuff you talked about.” Went argued, making Richie and Bev go white.

“What? Clown stuff? There was no-“

“Richie, just because you’re bedroom door is closed doesn’t mean I can’t hear you talking about some clown that was kidnapping kids. Now come on, we’re going out.”

Bev and Richie stared at each other in disbelief. Went sighed.

“We’re gonna go break into a house.” He added, bringing the kids back into the room. “Now, let’s get going.” Went stood and started walking to the door, Bev and Richie following close behind.

Went smashed the back window open with a brick and propped the kids into it, instructing them to be quiet in case he comes back. Went started searching the ground floor while Bev went upstairs and Richie to the basement. As he walked down the stairs, he noticed the faint outline of a desk. With the flick of a switch, the room lit up, blinding Richie for just a moment before he regained his senses, moving to search the desk. Pictures of Henry and his mother were everywhere, but buried at the bottom of the left draw, there was a list of names stapled to some sort of map, clearly torn from a book, with red marker along roads. Richie’s eyes widened in realisation, this was a map to the Losers. Hopefully. He opened his mouth to shout when he heard a car pull up. His heart stopped. _Shit_. His movement stilled, going silent in what would have been a heartbeat had it not stopped, and he listened as Butch burst through the front door. He had to do something.

Went kept his eye out, looking through the window as he searched the sheriff’s things. Nothing out of the ordinary for a man who had lost his entire family within the last couple years. There wasn’t much. A set of keys was all that really stood out, as they didn’t look like house or car keys. He pocketed them for later investigation when he heard a car pull up. With a quick peek out of the window, he watched Butch stumble out of the car and move to the front door. Grasping the keys tightly in his pocket, Went prepared for the worst.

As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, Beverly was met with a shock. There, about to bust into Henry’s old room was Patrick Hockstetter. The two stared at each other in astonishment before silently nodding and entering Henry’s room. It was what Bev had expected, what with the rock band posters covering the walls, the minor instruments of torture all over the floor. From the looks of it Butch hadn’t even been in here since Henry went insane. It was kinda sad if she was honest. Wandering over to the corner, she noticed a pair of cop uniforms, making her furrow her eyebrows. Then she remembered. Henry wanted to be like his dad, he’d even been for a couple days at the station. This was his uniform. She gently picked one of the uniforms up, but soon dropped it as the front door burst open. She and Patrick locked eyes as she put a finger up to her mouth. Once again they nodded at each other and started to make their way towards the stairs. This was it.

Went grabbed Butch with his free hand as the door burst open, catching the cop by surprise. Butch lurched back and slammed Went into the door, winding the man. Despite the lack of breath in his body, Went pulled the keys out of his pocket and slammed them into the side of Butch’s face, going straight through his cheek. Went took Butch’s panic as a sign to fall to the ground in pain just as Bev and Patrick came down the stairs. Watching the carnage, Patrick shouted “WHAT THE FUCK?”

Butch turned to the stairs and lunged for them, but was tripped by Went grabbing his leg. Angered further, Butch turned back around and prepared to stop Went when he was stopped by a brick to the other side of his head, knocking him out. All three conscious fighters looked in the direction of the brick and saw Richie in the doorway, panting, with an empty hand in the air and a map by his side.

“Where the fuck did you get that kind of upper body strength?” Bev asked.

“I started working on it after the clown last year. Just in case.” Richie huffed.

“You need to explain this fucking clown.” Went said, catching his breath.

“I will, just-“ Richie stopped as the sound of police sirens became louder. “We need to go.”

“We’ll get chased.” Patrick said. Bev furrowed her brows before her eyes lit up.

“I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry it took so long. like my penis. L.O.L.


End file.
